


he works hard (for the money)

by poetictragedy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry Sex, Barebacking, Biting, Car Sex, Dirty Talk, Jealousy, Light Masochism, M/M, Oral Sex, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-16
Updated: 2012-10-16
Packaged: 2017-11-16 10:39:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/538564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetictragedy/pseuds/poetictragedy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is hungry and Sam suggests/jokes, because they have little money, that he should work the corner for food. So he does, and Sam is disappointed when he finds Dean on the street.</p>
            </blockquote>





	he works hard (for the money)

“ _Saaaaam_.” The word was a drawn out whine and Dean looked from the book on the table, to Sam, a slight pout on his face. His stomach was growling harder than before, grumbling and making other weird noises that Dean couldn’t explain, and he was hungry. Sam, on the other hand, didn’t seem to care, and only gave Dean a small smirk, before dropping his eyes back to the papers set out in front of him.

“Can you  _not_  hear it rumbling? Or are you just ignoring my hunger for the case?” Dean’s words were harsh and he moved a hand to his stomach, pushing against it in a vain effort to keep it from growling. He knew it wouldn’t work, because he hadn’t eaten in almost two days, and all Dean wanted was a cheeseburger. On the other end of the table, Sam shrugged and lifted his eyes again, locking gazes with Dean.  
  
“I told you, when don’t have to money for food right now. We could  _barely_  afford this motel room, and the money we do have, we need to save for gas.” Sam’s words were soft, and Dean knew that he was right. They only had a hundred and fifty dollars between the two of them, and that would only last until the hunt was over. And Sam had promised, that once they bagged whatever the hell it was that was haunting the town, that Dean could go hustling again and get more money.  
  
“Can’t I just use the credit card we  _have_  to get food? I’m freakin’ hungry, dude!” Dean leaned back against his chair and looked down at his stomach, lifting his shirt as he did. He could feel it grumbling again and muttered curse words at it, as well as the fact that they were broke and Sam wouldn’t let him use a fake credit card to get  _food_ ; something they both needed. When he looked back up, Dean saw that Sam was shaking his head, jaw set firmly, and he groaned loudly.   
  
“I told you, no more credit card scams. If you want food, then… I dunno,” Sam started and shrugged his shoulders, suddenly leaning back with a grin on his face. “Why don’t you go work the corner? I saw a couple of  _really_  feminine looking guys down there in tight outfits… I’m sure you’d fit in perfectly.” After he spoke, Sam threw his head back and laughed, while Dean glared at him, eyes narrowed and jaw set.

“Maybe I should, at least  _they_  would support my way of getting what I want.” Dean crossed both arms over his chest and laughed when Sam’s chuckling stopped and when he was staring at him, his face suddenly serious. Of course, prostituting himself for  _food_  wasn’t something that Dean was about to do, but he was getting desperate enough to consider it.

“I don’t support you scamming credit card companies, Dean; it’s not the same as giving a blowjob to some random stranger in the back of a car.” Sam snorted the words out and yawned, lifting a hand to rake through his hair, before dropping it back to the table, folding the papers and stacking them neatly. “But, I’m gonna get ready for bed. Maybe sleeping with get your mind off of food?” He smiled at Dean and stood up, making his way to the bathroom.  
  
“Maybe food will  _help_  me sleep!” Dean yelled the words at Sam just as he was walking through the bathroom door and flipped the book shut in front of him. Resting his elbows on the table, he ran both hands down his face and sighed, listening to his stomach growl.   
  
As he sat there, Dean actually managed to allow his mind to wander; he wondered if he could get by with whoring himself out on the street. Biting his lip, he laughed and nodded his head; he knew he would do just fine, because he was  _pretty_. More than one time, he’d been called that, and his features had been called feminine. It wasn’t something Dean was exactly proud of, but it did get him plenty of numbers - both from men and women - and he was proud of the fact that he could turn heads.  
  
After a minute of weighing his options, Dean swallowed his pride and walked to the door, wrapping his hand around the knob. He stole a glance over his shoulder, grabbed his jacket, and twisted the doorknob before opening the door. Stepping outside, Dean shut the door behind him and shrugged into his jacket, making sure his knife, wallet, and cellphone were in the pockets before he walked through the parking lot.

“I can _not_  believe I am doing this..” Dean kept muttering the phrase until he got to a small thrift store on the corner and ducked inside, reveling in the warmth. The woman at the counter nodded her head at him, smiling brightly once he nodded back, before he headed back into the corner. He ended up in the men’s section and he began looking for clothes that would be suitable for what he was about to do.  
  
All he could find were two pairs of leather pants - which were out, because he didn’t want to dress like Motley fucking Crue - and a pair of tight jeans with rips in the legs. Dean decided he liked the latter option better, and he went on to look for shirts, coming up with three possible options; a tight-looking blue sweater, a mesh tank top, and a gray v-neck that looked a size too small for him.   
  
When he had a bundle of clothes, Dean walked to the dressing room and pulled the door shut with a heavy sigh. He looked at the things he had dumped onto the bench and chewed his bottom lip, wondering if he was  _really_  going to whore himself out just so that he could get money for food? To be honest, he wasn’t just doing it for himself, but for Sam too; Dean knew that the kid hadn’t eaten in as long as Dean had, but he had more will power than him.

Sighing again, Dean kicked his boots off and undid his jeans, before pushing them down and laying them on the bench. Next, he peeled his jacket off and pulled his shirt over his head, dropping both of them onto the bench, before picking up the jeans. They looked small, but Dean was confident that he could wiggle into them, and at least get them over his ass.  
  
“Here goes nothing,” he muttered quietly to himself, as he stepped into the ripped denim and began wiggling them up his legs. Once it passed his thighs, Dean breathed a sigh of relief and pulled them up around around his hips. Licking his lips, he clasped the button and pulled the zipper, wincing as the waistband dug into his hips, but he decided it was something he could work with.   
  
He grabbed the three shirts and turned to look at himself in the mirror, eyes growing wide at his reflection. The jeans were clinging to his thighs and calves, hugging them and making them looking better than ever. Of course, the jeans also made his legs look even more bowed than they really were, and Dean rolled his eyes, grabbing the t-shirt, pulling it over his head. When he looked at himself in the mirror again, he groaned and turned sideways, admiring himself from all angles. He had to admit, if he were another guy - or even a woman - he would fuck himself, because he looked fantastic.

The combination of the shirt with the jeans made Dean feel confident that he would pick someone up, and that he’d be able to buy dinner for both himself and Sam. Giving himself one last look, Dean turned around and tore the shirt off, throwing it onto the bench, before wiggling out of the jeans. When he pulled them off, he almost fell and caught himself on the wall, suddenly laughing out loud. After a minute of laughing, Dean pulled his old clothes on, and yanked his boots on, lacing them up quickly before gathering the things he was going to buy.  
  
He left the dressing room with the pair of jeans and t-shirt in his hands, heading to the register. When he set the items on the counter, he smiled at the cashier and licked his lips absently, watching as she rang him up. She told Dean the total and he pulled out his wallet, grabbing one of the credit cards, giving the expiration date a glance, before handing it over.  
  
Dean tapped his fingers on the counter and looked around the store, to avoid looking at the cashier, who had her eyes glued on him. He wanted to tell her that he didn’t swing that way, not entirely anyway, but he didn’t have the heart, so he looked back at her and smiled when he was handed his credit card back. After another minute, she handed Dean a receipt, to which he quickly signed and handed back, before grabbing his things.

“Have a good night.” Dean muttered the words as he turned away from the woman and headed back outside, heading back to the motel. He knew he couldn’t go back into the room, where Sam was probably out of the shower and laying on his bed, so he opened the door to the Impala and climbed into the backseat. The first thing he did was lay back on the seat and kick his shoes off onto the floorboard, before he was undoing his jeans.  
  
The whole process was uncomfortable, and Dean was starting to wonder if what he was doing was really worth it. Before he could assure himself that it  _was_ , his stomach made up his mind for him and wiggled out of his jeans, letting them crumple to the floor. He sat up and pulled his jacket off, before laying it on the seat behind him and pulling his t-shirt off, throwing it onto the floor. Shivering a bit, Dean grabbed his new clothes and pulled the shirt over his head, suddenly glad for what  _little_  warmth it was giving him.  
  
Next came the jeans, and Dean found it incredibly difficult to maneuver around in the backseat, and he almost kicked the window out more than once. But, eventually, he got the jeans over his ass and zipped and buttoned, and he found it even more difficult to sit up in the tight denim. When he had managed to sit up, Dean grabbed his boots and pulled them on, lacing them quickly before grabbing his jacket.   
  
“Fuck, I better get  _something_  for wearing these damn things…” Dean muttered to himself as he opened the door and climbed out of the car, subtly adjusting himself as he stood up. The jeans seemed tighter, now that he was standing up, and Dean shut the Impala door, before slipping his hands into his pockets. Grabbing his wallet, Dean made a face and opened the door again, burying it in his other jeans pocket.

When it was hidden well enough, Dean shut the door again and ran to the sidewalk, groaning as the crotch of his jeans seemed to squeeze his cock tightly. He licked his lips and slowed his walk, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket as he made his way to the corner where most of the male prostitutes hung out. When he and Sam had drove into town the other night, they had seen several standing around, and - if the same ones were there tonight - he knew he didn’t have any competition.

Dean got to the dark corner, and heard a few horns honk at him, and he grimaced suddenly, not wanting any of the attention. But when he stomach rumbled  _again_ , he remembered what he was doing it for and sighed, peeling his jacket off and hooking it on his bent elbow. He could see the other guys walking around in their mesh t-shirts and tight leather jeans, and he snorted.  
  
“Hello,  _ladies_.” Dean smirked at the other guys and slipped his hands into his back pockets, walking until he was in the center of all the guys. All around him, he could hear were whispers about him and he stood proud on the sidewalk, head held high and lips parted slightly, his tongue darting out to lick them slowly.

He had only been there for a minute when a car slowed down and turned down the alley, finally coming to a stop. Dean’s heart was thudding in his chest when he heard the car door slam shut, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps on the pavement. In the back of his mind, he was hoping that he would get chosen, but he kept that thought pushed away, wondering what kind of sick person  _wants_  to be chosen for an anonymous fuck.  
  
The footsteps stopped near him and Dean cocked his head to the side, meeting a pair of blue eyes. They seemed soft enough, but Dean knew that not every guy that was looking for a random  _paid_  fuck, was nice; most of them were assholes, and he had always hated them. For the moment, though, he swallowed his pride and grinned at the other man, parting his lips and licking them seductively. The look on the man’s face told Dean that everything he was doing was working, and he bit his bottom lip, smirking.  
  
“What’s your name, sweetheart?” The guy’s voice was heavy with an out-of-state accent and Dean licked his lips again, not so much for show anymore, and he could feel his stomach twist. At the same moment, there was a fire radiating from his stomach to his groin and he gave the guy a slow, lazy look up and down, giving himself time to think of a suitable name to use.

“You can call me Jay.” It was all Dean could think of, and he almost snorted at the words that came from his own mouth. This time, though, it was the other guy’s turn to lip his lips, and Dean felt a hand curl around his jaw. Every instinct in his body told him to slam the heel of his hand up into the guy’s nose, but he didn’t. His hands stayed in his pockets, and he leaned into the other guy’s touch, praying that his stomach didn’t growl.  
  
“How much?” The guy’s voice was right next to Dean’s ear and it took all he had not to shudder, and to keep himself vertical. Struggling to find the words, Dean licked his lips, rolling the bottom one between his teeth before turning, pressing his lips right against the guy’s ear. The words that came out were as quiet as a whisper, and rolled out as a smooth purr, despite the nervousness Dean felt.  
  
“Fifty for my pretty lips wrapped around your cock,” Dean purred, closing his eyes as he talked, “a hundred to put me on my knees; do the math for both.” The hand around his jaw tightened and Dean moaned in the guy’s ear, moving a hand out of his pocket to slide onto his hip. “Why don’t we go to your car,” he cocked his head toward the dark blue Mustang that was parked a few feet away, “and discuss this privately?”   
  
“I like the way you think. And you can call me Jeff.” Jeff grinned and slipped his hand into Dean’s back pocket, pulling him close, before leading him to his car. Dean couldn’t help but grin and look back at the guys that were standing behind them, watching as their mouths dropped open. Licking his lips, Dean turned his attention back to Jeff, allowing himself to be led to the car, before the door was opening. “Get in the back, I’m gonna drive us further down the alley, so we won’t be seen.” Jeff’s words were right in his ear and Dean purred, pushing the seat forward so he could climb in the back.  
  
The door shut behind him and Dean dropped his jacket onto the floorboard, calculated how many second it would take for him to pull his knife, if needed. Sitting back against the comfy leather, he sighed and watched Jeff get into the driver seat, before the car was moving, and taking a slight left. When the car stopped a few seconds later, they were surrounded in complete darkness and Dean’s heart throbbed against his ribs and he slid down the seat, watching Jeff get out of the car, before sliding onto the opposite end of the seat with him, before the door was shut.  
  
“I’ll give you two-fifty, if you suck my cock and then ride me.” Jeff’s voice was hoarse and Dean smiled, running a hand along the inside of his thigh, until his fingertips brushed along his bulge. He didn’t say another word, just worked on getting Jeff’s jeans undone, before palming him through his boxers. The other man tipped his head back against the top of the seat and Dean chewed his bottom lip, stroking Jeff until he was fully hard.  
  
“Got a condom? Don’t give head unless there’s protection involved.” Dean laughed it off and watched Jeff’s hand slip into his pocket, before he pulled out a few condoms, laying them on the seat beside Dean. Swallowing hard, he grabbed one of them with a shaky hand and undid it, throwing the wrapped onto the seat once he’d taken the condom out.  
  
Neither of them spoke, and Dean pulled Jeff’s jeans and boxers down, before rolling the condom down over his cock and leaning in. The first thing he did, was wrap his hand around the base of Jeff’s shaft while he ran his tongue along the head, listening to the other man suck in a deep breath. Smiling, Dean took him into his mouth and sucked lightly, humming against Jeff’s cock as he dropped one hand down, squeezing his balls lightly.  
  
“Fuck.” Jeff breathed and Dean could feel a hand tangling in his hair, and he closed his eyes, moaning against the cock in his mouth. Opening his lips wider, Dean took more of Jeff’s cock into his mouth and sucked slowly, dragging his mouth up and off with a loud, ridiculous popping noise. That only seemed to make Jeff moan louder, and that prompted Dean to take him as far as he could.  
  
Dean hummed around the shaft and kept his tongue flat against Jeff’s cock, pressing it against a vein along the underside. The harder he sucked, the more the vein throbbed and the harder Dean began to grow against his jeans. The tight denim made his cock ache and Dean shifted his elbow, so he was rubbing it against the front of his jeans.  
  
“You’ve got such a hot fucking mouth,” Jeff moaned the words out and Dean laughed around his cock, working it like a pro. He sucked harder and stroked the rest of Jeff’s cock; working his mouth and his hand at the same time, until Jeff’s hips were bucking forward and he was panting heavily. Smiling as much as he could, Dean pulled his hand away and took the entire length of Jeff’s cock into his mouth, barely gagging as it hit the back of his throat.

“Jesus fucking Christ…” At the words of the other man, Dean began bobbing his head up and down, wrapping his hand around the base of Jeff’s cock, twisting his wrist slightly. Every time Jeff’s moans rose an octave, Dean sucked and stroked his cock harder, humming against it, and willing his stomach to stop growling. For the moment, though, he wasn’t worried about that; he was more worried about the throbbing, aching cock in his jeans.  
  
“Get on me.” Jeff’s words were abrupt and Dean’s mouth stopped on his cock, before he rolled his head to the side, watching Jeff bite his bottom lip.  Moaning, Dean pulled away and licked his lips, before he was working on undoing his own jeans, pushing them down, along with his boxers, just far enough so that he could straddle Jeff’s lap.  
  
When he climbed onto the other man’s lap, Dean moved two fingers to his mouth and sucked them slowly, knowing that Jeff’s eyes were on him the entire time. Moaning against the digits, Dean threw his head back and ran his free hand down, wrapping it around his cock before giving it one long, slow stroke. The friction and attention was enough to make Dean come on the spot, but he suddenly remembered what he was there to do.   
  
“Stretch yourself open for me, Jay; my cock’s nice and big, wanna fill that ass of yours.” Jeff’s words were gruff and almost breathless and Dean smirked, sliding his fingers out of his mouth and moving them underneath his ass. At first, he winced at the feeling of  _both_  fingers being pressed against the tight entrance, but he soon relaxed and pushed himself onto both digits slowly. Biting his lip at the pain, Dean began scissoring his fingers slowly and pulling them out at the same time; pushing them back in, separating them, and removing them over and over until he started moaning in pleasure.

“Tight, huh?” Jeff laughed and Dean could only nod as he began moving his hips against his hand, sliding the other to Jeff’s shoulder, gripping it tightly. The other man moaned when Dean’s hand wrapped around his shoulder, but made no attempt to push it away. Instead, he leaned forward and dug around in his pocket, grabbing a small bottle of lube, before popping the cap and drizzling some of it on his cock.   
  
“Is this your first time?” Dean shook his head and whimpered loudly, throwing his head back and feeling sweat drip down it, despite the temperature inside the car, and outside. Licking his lips slowly, Dean dropped his head back toward his chest and pulled his fingers out, lowering himself as he gripped the base of Jeff’s cock.  
  
“I’ve done this a few times before, s’just been a long time..” Dean hissed the words out and positioned the head of Jeff’s cock against his ass. As he sank down, Dean curled his fingers tightly against the other man’s shoulder, digging his fingernails into the fabric of his shirt so hard, he was sure he’d rip it. The pressure of Jeff’s cock against his ass made him moan out and he tipped his head back again, parting his lips.  
  
“That’s it, just go slow; got all night, Jay.” For a moment, Dean was confused until he realized that  _Jay_ was his prostitute name, and he chuckled, swallowing hard as the head of Jeff’s cock sank into him. Panting, he took his time sliding down the rest of the shaft; using the hand that was wrapped around the base to stroke Jeff slowly, to keep him nice and hard. When Jeff was moaning and his hips were jerking forward, Dean allowed himself to sink down further and he hissed.   
  
The only other person Dean had bottomed for was Sam, and that was a long time ago; he could barely remember it, because they were both stupidly drunk. But that didn’t mean he hated it, what he  _could_ remember, and he sucked in a deep breath, imaging that Jeff was Sam instead. This made his cock throb harder and he whined, moving his hand from the other man’s shoulder, to his own cock, stroking it slowly.

“Fuck…” Dean bit his bottom lip to keep from moaning Sam’s name and slid down until his skin was touching Jeff’s. After giving himself a moment to re-adjust, Dean began bouncing up and down slowly, his and Jeff’s moans quickly filling the car. The sound of skin slapping together mixed with their noises, and Dean could feel two hands wrap around his hips, moving them slowly. He let Jeff guide his hips all he wanted, and focused on not coming right then and there.  
  
“So fucking tight..” Jeff’s voice was rough and the words came out as more of a growl than coherent words, and Dean started riding him harder. He was barely paying attention to what the other man was saying as he rode him harder, slamming his hips down. As he moved his hips, Dean barely heard Jeff mumble something about coming soon, and he licked his lips slowly, moaning out as he continued to grind his hips down.  
  
“Fuck,  _fuck_  S—” Dean stopped himself and bit down hard on his bottom lip, feeling Jeff’s hands wrap around his hips tightly, before he was being slammed down on his cock. Letting out a cry, Dean slumped forward and put a hand on either side of Jeff’s head, gripping the leather tightly as he rode the other man as hard as he could, giving his all.

The minutes seemed to drag into hours, and it felt like Dean had been working on Jeff’s cock for ever. The pace was quick, rough and was starting to get redundant, and Dean suddenly slammed his hips down, keeping them still as he rotated them slowly. He licked his lips as Jeff moaned loudly and jerked his hips forward, making a strangled noise in the back of his throat that told Dean he was going to come. The noises that came from the other man’s mouth only made Dean work harder, and soon he was half-screaming, his cock throbbing.  
  
“Fuck!” The word came out as a scream and Dean felt his hips being gripped tightly, nails digging into his skin as he was slammed down on Jeff’s cock. He screamed, the noise fading into a moan as he slowly worked his hips, riding Jeff through his orgasm, an accomplished grin on his face.

When Dean was sure that Jeff was done, he slid off and winced at the loss, before collapsing onto the seat beside the other man. The first thing he did was grab his cock and stroke it slowly as he he worked to get his shirt off. Once it was off, Dean put it over his cock, moving his hand up and down it faster; writhing against the leather and throwing his head back, chewing down on his bottom lip as he came half a minute later.  
  
Panting heavily, Dean cleaned his cock up and licked his lips, only minutely aware that Jeff was watching him with wide eyes. When he turned, he saw that the other man was stroking his now softening cock and Dean laughed softly, crumpling his shirt up, before lifting his hips. He slipped his boxers on and pulled his jeans up as far as he could, settling back against the seat, giving Jeff a sly grin.  
  
“I think I’ll up the price.” Jeff’s voice was half breathless and Dean almost laughed, but nodded his head instead and sat up slowly, wincing. His ass was sore, and his cock was still aching, but he didn’t care; he was getting money for food, and he grinned proudly. “Three alright? I think fifty is a good price for the show you just put on, plus letting me stretch you out.” The other man laughed as he pulled his jeans up and slid a hand into his pocket, fishing around for his wallet.  
  
“Perfect.” Dean cleared his throat and lifted a hand, rubbing the back of his neck. He watched as Jeff pulled his wallet out and pulled six bills out, before handing them to Dean with a slight grin. Nodding, Dean licked his lips and took the money, counting it quickly, to make sure all three hundred was there, and shoved it into his pocket.  
  
“Now get out.” Jeff’s words were cold and abrupt, but Dean showed no protest as he grabbed his jacket off of the floorboard, and his shirt from the seat. Moving awkwardly, because his jeans were sitting so low on his hips, Dean stumbled out of the car and stood up, laying his jacket on the top before redoing his jeans. After he was situated again, Dean pulled his jacket on and walked down the alley, his legs shaking the entire way.  
  
When he got to the sidewalk, he had his jacket zipped up, and his hands shoved into his pockets, keeping hold of the money. The same guys were standing around, and Dean just smiled at them, as he stood against the wall, licking his lips slowly. He couldn’t believe that he had sold himself for money, let alone money for  _food_ ; it should have been a new all-time low for Dean, but he was proud of what he did.  
  
Until he saw a familiar car pulling up to the curb.

Dean spotted the front end of the Impala and it didn’t register in his mind that it was  _his_  Impala, until it stopped in front of him. He cocked his head to the side and saw Sam sitting behind the steering wheel, wearing an expression that Dean could only categorize as one of shock, mixed with anger. Swallowing at the lump in his throat, Dean sauntered over to the car, pretending like it was another job, and opened the passenger side door before getting in.  
  
“Don’t yell at me right now; take me back to the motel if you’re gonna scream.” Dean turned his back toward the door and gave Sam a pleading look, before the younger man sighed and put the car in drive again, before making a U-turn and heading back toward the motel. Sighing, Dean unzipped his jacket and leaned back against the seat, lifting his hips slightly in an effort to keep his ass from hurting any more than it already did.

“What the fuck do you think you were doing back there, Dean?!” Sam screamed the words as he pulled into the motel’s parking lot and stopped the car. When it was in park, he turned to Dean and raised an eyebrow, waiting for his brother to answer. All Dean could do was swallow hard and fish the money out of his pocket, waving it in the air.  
  
“Getting money for  _food_ , because I am starving, and I know you are, too. We can’t live off of the free complimentary coffee that motel gives us - which is complete  _shit_.” Dean was yelling now, as he shoved the money back into his pocket and opened the door. He climbed out and almost fell, not completely used to his legs yet, and shut the door behind him. Walking around the back of the Impala, Dean sighed as he felt the wind blew through his open jacket and he shivered.   
  
“We’re  _not_  done discussing this, Dean!” Sam wrapped a hand around Dean’s bicep, and suddenly all he wanted to do was turn around and hit his brother. Wanted to punch him and scream at him and tell him that  _he_  was done discussing it, but he didn’t. He stopped walking and set his jaw, clenching his eyes shut as he breathed deeply through his nose.  
  
“You wouldn’t let me use the credit card, Sam,” Dean started, his voice wavering as he turned around, blinking his eyes open to look at his brother, “and I did this for  _us_ , so I could get you food. I know you’re hungry, and I was thinking about you…” He stopped and chewed his bottom, looking down at the ground, feeling tears rim his eyes. Dean wasn’t upset, but he was angry and he didn’t want to look at Sam, didn’t wanna look into his eyes for fear of seeing the shame and disapproval in his brother’s gaze.  
  
“You could have just gone out and done it anyway! Since when do you listen to me, Dean?” Sam moved his hand down to grip Dean’s elbow and he held on tightly, staring at him with his jaw set. He was angry at his brother, but he was also jealous of the guy that he had whored himself out to. They had only had sex together a handful of times before, and Sam wanted, desperately, to be inside his brother again.  
  
“Because I knew you were serious, Sammy..” Dean’s voice dropped to a soft whisper and he swallowed hard, lifting his gaze until his eyes locked on Sam’s. “And I thought of you the  _entire_  time that guy was fucking me, and making me feel like a dirty fucking whore.” The tears were flowing now and Dean wiped at them, laughing harshly when Sam’s face fell from anger to sadness in just a few seconds.   
  
“Yeah, bet you didn’t expect that, huh? Your big brother to be riding some guy’s cock in the backseat of a fucking  _Mustang_ , in a dark alley - and all he can do is think about his baby brother.” Dean shoved his hands under his arms as he crossed them over his chest, staring at Sam, snorting. “But you aren’t a baby anymore, are you? You’re tall and gorgeous and— I can’t stop thinking about you,  _ever_.”  
  
“This doesn’t change the fact that you  _fucked_  a  _stranger!_ ” Sam’s voice was louder, but his face was still twisted into an expression of pain and sadness. Rolling his eyes, Dean shook his head and licked his lips, before wrenching away from Sam’s grip and heading to the room. He unlocked the door quickly and walked inside, tearing his jacket off and tossing it onto the floor aimlessly. The door slammed shut behind him and he grit his teeth, clenching his fists at his sides.

“You don’t sound like my  _brother_ , Sammy - you sound like a jealous boyfriend.” The words were out before Dean could shut his mouth and he heard a growl behind him. Shutting his eyes and taking a deep, shaky breath, Dean turned to look at Sam, before he was being slammed against the wall, Sam’s arm crossed over his chest. Their faces were barely inches apart and Dean licked his lips, eyes flicking from Sam’s lips, then to his eyes.  
  
“I stopped being  _just_  your brother the night you let me fuck you, Dean.” Sam’s voice was rough and Dean moaned involuntarily, his head tilting to the side. When he looked at Sam, all he could see was hurt and pain and jealously in his eyes and he suddenly hated himself for what he did. Swallowing hard, he opened his mouth to say something, but Sam’s mouth was pressed against his own, silencing him.  
  
Dean would have put up a fight, but Sam’s tongue was probing into his mouth and he melted right into the kiss. He pulled both hands away from his sides and cupped either side of Sam’s face, cradling his jaw in one hand, while the other moved to cup the side of his neck. Growling, Dean wrapped his tongue around Sam’s and sucked on it lightly, as he felt a hand move onto his hip, squeezing it roughly.  
  
The room was spinning and Dean pushed himself closer to Sam, despite the small voice in the back of his head that told him to stop. The voice told him that he didn’t want this - not now - and he ignored it, pressing his body tightly against Sam’s, until the younger man was kissing him fiercely. A hand went to his hair and Dean felt Sam’s fingers tangling in it, pulling roughly.   
  
“And I  _am_  jealous of the guy that fucked you,” Sam said after he pulled away and slipped his hand down, grabbing Dean’s ass and pulling it roughly. When the eldest Winchester yelped and tilted his head back against the wall, Sam smiled and leaned in, biting at his neck. He knew that Dean was probably still sore from fucking, but Sam didn’t care; didn’t care that he was yelping louder every time his ass was grabbed.  
  
“Wanna fuck you right now, Dean.” Sam whispered the words against Dean’s neck and tugged his hair harder, while the other hand cupped his ass and squeezed rougher than before. He pulled Dean closer to him, feeling their jean-clad cocks pressing tightly together as his teeth ghosted along Dean’s neck, before sinking in roughly.  
  
“Jesus  _fuck_ , Sammy…” Dean’s words were breathless and Sam grinned, pulling Dean away from the wall, and backing him up until he fell onto the bed. Without missing a beat, Sam climbed between his legs and put a hand on the mattress on either side of Dean’s head as he leaned in, licking his eldest brother’s lips slowly. Both of them moaned and Sam’s lips slotted against Dean’s and he kissed the eldest as deeply and roughly as he could, pressing their hips tightly together.  
  
A hand came up and Sam felt Dean’s fingers running down the side of his face and he growled into the kiss, clenching his eyes shut as he pressed into the older man as hard as he could. All of Dean’s noises died away against Sam’s lips, before he licked his way into the eldest’s mouth and wrapped his tongue around Dean’s. The moment their tongues came in contact with one another, Sam moved a hand down and ran his hand down Dean’s thigh, hooking it around his hip.

“Fuck me,” Dean whispered when they broke the kiss and he lifted a hand, tangling his fingers into Sam’s hair as he pulled their bodies closer together. He moaned the word  _please_  out under his breath and lifted his other leg, hooking it around Sam’s, pulling his hips roughly against his own.

“You want me to slide my cock into you, Dean?” Sam whispered as he kissed Dean’s jaw lightly, sliding a hand between them to undo the eldest’s jeans. A loud, throaty moan served as Sam’s confirmation and he grinned, biting Dean’s jaw before pulling away, looking down. “You know, you  _really_  do look like a slut dressed in these tight jeans.”  
  
Sam ran his fingers over the waistband of Dean’s jeans, dragging his fingertips along the smooth, tanned skin there and listened to his brother whine. Grinning more, Sam leaned down and bit at Dean’s nipple, tugging it gently before dragging the tip of his tongue over it slowly.  
  
“Jesus  _fucking_  Christ - just fuck me already!” Dean’s voice was needy and desperate and Sam moaned, undoing Dean’s jeans quickly, before pulling away. The eldest whined when he straightened up and Sam smiled, climbing off the bed to pull Dean’s boots off, tossing them to the floor. His hands snaked up Dean’s thighs slowly, and he grabbed the waistband, pulling the denim down slowly, peering up at his brother with a smile on his face.

“Bet you let him fuck you like a good whore huh, Dean?” Sam’s voice was low and rough and Dean moaned, lifting his hips as the denim slid down his legs slowly. Chuckling, the youngest moved a hand to the back of Dean’s jeans and grabbed the waistband, pulling them down slowly as he moved his free hand up. Sam dragged his fingertips up the inside of the eldest’s thigh and finally moved them to his covered cock.  
  
“Yeah, I— _fuck, Sam_.” Dean’s breath hitched in his throat when he felt Sam’s fingers brush along the head of his cock and he whined, moving his hand to tug into the youngest’s hair once more. As he grabbed a handful of Sam’s long, brown locks, Dean lifted his hips higher and made a low, desperate noise in the back of his throat. He needed to feel Sam against him; needed Sam in him, their bodies pressed tightly together, and the youngest’s mouth all over him. When his fingers fell away, though, Dean growled in frustration and tugged Sam’s hair harder, listening to him hiss.  
  
“You still want it, don’t you?” Smirking, Sam pulled Dean’s jeans off completely and threw them onto the floor, before leaning onto the bed and biting the inside of his thigh. When a long, loud moan escaped Dean’s throat, Sam grinned and grabbed either side of his boxers, pulling them down quickly. “Such a fucking dirty whore, Dean…  _Always_  wanting a cock shoved into that tight hole of yours.” The words came out of Sam’s mouth as a quiet purr and he reveled in the way Dean was twisting and arching his body off the mattress.  
  
“I want  _you_  inside me, Sam.” Dean panted the words out and moved his other hand to Sam’s hair, grabbing another handful of his hair as he tried to direct the youngest’s mouth to his cock. When Sam wouldn’t budge, he moaned and fell back against the bed with a desperate sigh. Dean had never wanted anyone as much as he wanted Sam, especially in that moment, and he moved a hand to his cock.   
  
The second his fingers wrapped around the base, they were swatted away by Sam’s hand, and he growled loudly, moving his hands to the sheets. He balled them in his fists and looked down, watching as Sam brushed his lips along his inner thigh. Swallowing hard, Dean moved one hand from the sheets and gripped the back of Sam’s neck, rubbing it lightly.  
  
“What if I put you on your knees, mm?” Sam got Dean’s boxers off and tossed them onto the floor, before pushing his legs open and settling between them again. Leaning over, he put his lips next to Dean’s ear and moaned softly against them, running a hand from the top of his brother’s thigh, to his side. “Put you on your knees and face-fuck you, or just cut out the middle man and slam my hard cock into your ass..”

“Just fuck me.” Dean groaned the words through barred teeth and he wrapped his legs around Sam’s waist, pulling him down even though he still had clothes on. A low chuckle rang in his ear and Dean moaned, bucking his hips forward and hissing when his cock brushed against Sam’s jeans.

“God, you  _really_  do want it, huh?” Sam laughed and bit Dean’s ear before pulling away. He pulled his shirt off and tossed it aimlessly to the floor, before working on undoing his jeans. When the button was undone and the zipper was down, Sam pushed the denim down, along with his boxers, and let them fall around his ankles. “Get on your knees, you slut.”  
  
“Fuck..” Dean groaned and did as he was told, crawling onto his knees and dipping his chest down toward the bed, sticking his ass up in the air for Sam. He heard a moan behind him and chewed on his lower lip, pushing his hips back against the younger man, whining low in his throat.

“Is your ass still sore?” Sam spit on his fingers and slid them into Dean’s entrance, listening to him scream at the intrusion, and he growled, moving his free hand down to stroke his cock. He gripped the base and stroked up slowly, pulling his fingers out of Dean, scissoring them before shoving them back in. The harder he pushed in, the louder Dean moaned and screamed, and the harder Sam’s cock throbbed in his hand.  
  
“So fucking hot,” Sam leaned over and kissed Dean’s back gently, mumbling against it, “love knowing that your ass is still sore, and you  _still_  want me to fuck it.” Ramming his fingers in and out of Dean, Sam listened to his moans grow louder and louder and he bit across his shoulders, suddenly pulling his fingers out and pressing the head of his cock against Dean’s entrance.

“Sam..” His name came out as more of a whine, than anything else, and Dean clenched his eyes shut, balling the sheets in his fists. He took a deep breath as he felt Sam’s cock press into him and he tried not to scream; tried not to make any noise, or protest of any kind to keep Sam from fucking him. Even though his ass hurt so badly it felt like it was burning, Dean still wanted to be fucked, and wanted Sam inside of him.  
  
“You okay?” Sam asked, his voice suddenly soft as he placed kissing along Dean’s shoulders, listening to him choke out a confirmation, before he moved his hips slowly. Though he knew Dean was in pain, that didn’t stop Sam from pulling out all the way and slamming back in, hunching over Dean’s body as he grunted. Their noises mixed together, and Sam moved a hand to Dean’s, lacing their fingers together, his hips thrusting against him harder.  
  
“Fuck - Sammy,  _ow_.” Despite Dean’s sudden outburst of pain, he didn’t tell Sam to stop, nor did he really want him to. The pain he was feeling made his cock throb against his stomach and he wanted to reach out and stroke himself, but he couldn’t. Dean kept his hand balled in the sheets, while he gave Sam’s hand a firm squeeze, feeling his teeth sink into his shoulders.  
  
“Thinking about you being a whore for that guy, Dean,” Sam moaned out as he pressed his head against the side of Dean’s, “makes me  _so_  fucking hard.” He panted the last words and pulled out halfway, before pushing in again, moving his free hand to Dean’s hip, gripping it tightly. “Bet you sucked his cock with those perfect lips, huh? Take him in your mouth, suck him down..”  
  
“Yeah, Sammy… Such a fucking whore.” Dean couldn’t believe what he was saying as he spoke, but he didn’t care; didn’t care about anything but Sam’s body against his own, the hand on his hip gripping so tightly that he was sure there would be bruises the next day. He moaned the words out and pushed back against Sam, the pain in his ass only making his cock throb more, and hurt. Whining, Dean fell against the bed, his chest pressing down against it fully, as he moved a hand to his cock, stroking it slowly.  
  
“And now you’re taking  _my_  cock? Jesus, you’re such a dirty slut.” Sam growled the words out and straightened up, moving both hands to Dean’s hips, gripping them tightly. His thumbs dug into Dean’s ass cheeks and he pulled all the way out, sliding the head of his cock up and down the crack of Dean’s ass, before slamming in again. That one thrust almost sent Sam over the edge and he moved a hand up, grabbing Dean’s hair, tugging his head back.  
  
“Come in me, Sammy…  _Fuck_ , wanna - feel you…” Dean was babbling aimlessly and he stroked his cock faster, feeling his knees tremble underneath his and Sam’s weight. He was getting closer to coming himself, and he wanted to feel the younger man let loose first. The sheer thought of it - Sam coming deep inside him - made Dean grip his cock tightly and stroke faster, panting heavily.  
  
Sam thrust in and out of Dean a few more times, his hips losing rhythm, thrusts sporadic as he dug his fingers into Dean’s skin tightly. When he heard Dean scream his name, he groaned loudly and thrust in one last time, his hips slamming against Dean’s ass, their skin colliding loudly. He moaned the older man’s name loudly and leaned forward, biting along his spine as he came, burying his cock deep within Dean.  
  
That was all it took for Dean and he stroked himself roughly until he came on the sheets with a scream. The noise faded into a loud moan, and that eventually fizzled into a whimper as Dean felt Sam’s hips moving against his slowly. Licking his lips, Dean pulled his hand away from his cock and pressed it flat against the sheets, trying to push himself up. He fell back to the bed with a grunt and sighed, turning his head so his cheek was pressing against the mattress.  
  
“Fuck - so hot, Dean.” Sam was muttering quietly against Dean’s skin before he pulled out, listening to Dean stifle a moan, and chuckled softly. After he pulled out, Sam fell to the bed beside his brother and moved his hand along his ass slowly, rubbing it lightly. He listened to soft moans escape Dean’s throat and grinned, pulling his hand away from the eldest’s ass, resting it on the small of his back.  
  
“Bet that’ll teach you never to fuck a stranger again, huh?” Sam leaned in and kissed the nape of Dean’s neck before pulling away and watching as the eldest turned his head around, their eyes locking. Grinning, Sam moved his hand back down and smacked Dean’s ass before standing, pulling his jeans up as he walked to the bathroom. He stopped at the door and turned around, watching Dean fall to his side on the bed, a hand moving to his ass. “And now you know who that ass belongs to.”  
  
“Yeah, belongs to you,” Dean agreed and whimpered as he rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, listening to Sam chuckle. The sound of laughter faded away, and was followed by the sound of the door clicking shut, and Dean sighed heavily, closing his eyes. He tried not to focus on the pain he was feeling, and tried to think about how Sam had basically just claimed him as his own. The thought of that made Dean smile and he sat up, pushing the soiled sheet onto the floor, before laying in the middle of the bed.  
  
He pulled another sheet over his body and turned over onto his stomach, cradling a pillow between his arms as he laid his head on top of it. Dean closed his eyes and listened to the shower run, his thoughts on other things - hunting, Sam, the food they would have tomorrow - instead of what he’d done, both with a stranger  _and_  Sam, and forgot about the fact that he was hungry. After laying there for a few moments, Dean eventually fell asleep and didn’t feel the bed dip when Sam crawled in beside him; didn’t feel the soft, warm arm that slipped around his waist, and he didn’t pay any attention to the kiss Sam pressed against his shoulder.


End file.
